


Sweet Tooth

by gravitysrainbow



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Brief mention of boner, Drug Use, Fluff, Innocent Harry, M/M, One Shot, Shotgunning, Weed, haha help, larry stylinson - Freeform, lourry, stONEd direction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-21 23:11:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gravitysrainbow/pseuds/gravitysrainbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Harry’d be so tickled that Louis had managed to find some funny and cheap DVDs, he liked those kinds of things, the saccharine stuff that made Louis’ molars ache from the over sweetness. But Harry was most sentimental person he knew and he’d rather keep him glowing sickly sweet rather than maudlin over his sentimentality."<br/>Or<br/>Harry and Louis smoke a joint and Louis ends up high in a convenience store to purchase Harry candy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Tooth

            “Can’t you just roll it? …Please?” Harry looked up from his lap, where a mess of papers and weed cluttered his long fingers.

            Turning around with a fond smile, Louis felt himself give into a laugh playing on his lips, “aw love, you’re hopeless!” Taking the plastic baggy off of Harry’s lap and gathering up the mess of green Harry had been attempting to break up on a tabloid, Louis still let soft chuckles and tongue clicks out of his mouth. “Harry, you’re a mess, I asked you to do one thing! It’s a good thing you’re so pretty,” punctuating the “pretty” with a gentle tap to the tip of his boyfriend’s nose.

            “Where would I be without you…?” Harry’s eyes fell onto the rosy Louis, who’d found himself kneeling in front of Harry to roll the joint on his best friend’s lap; his effeminate bronze fingers maneuvering the thin white paper with familiarity.

            “Over there.” Louis says replying with a quick jerk of his head, motioning to Harry’s empty bunk. “You’d be boring and fast asleep.” Louis’ typical cheeky arrogance had slipped back into the banter, causing his other half to smile mesmerized. “Probably thinking about my bum as you get yourself off…” a sparkle flashing in Louis’ eye in a split second, telling more about his feelings for Harry than any entire interview they’d been in.

            Harry’s smile grew crooked at his internal attempt to keep himself at rest, seeing as though a boner at that very moment might knock over the tabloid in his lap where Louis was rolling their joint. Although, fighting the rush of blood was getting trickier as Louis brought the nearly finished paper bundle to his lips in order to the seal the edge. Louis’ sharp, warm tongue flicked out and slid along the long edge of the rolling paper. Holding Harry’s trapped gaze with his own heavy, darkened one. When he’d moistened the edge entirely, he winked coyly at Harry before breaking their gaze to finish.

            “All done, princess,” Louis says handing his spliff (heavy on the green, easy on the tobacco) to Harry who in return pats the top of his hand and stands up, setting the tabloid and the baggy on the nearest surface.

            “Lou, at the next stop can you get me a chocolate bar from the petrol station?”

            “You’ve got two legs, Curly, can’t you go in yourself?”

            Harry replies, ever bashful and dopey like a baby deer, “y’know I don’t like going in while high…”

            “Well, go on and give me those eyes one more time and I won’t be able to say no.” They sort of wrestled then, sharing one of those playful, puppy moments that only best friends under the spell of love can share. “Our stop isn’t for another 25 miles; use my lighter.” Louis says sweetly, pulling out a beat up orange lighter with a Thor sticker on it and handing Harry the spliff.

            “Nice lighter. I wanna name my son Thor.”

            “Noted. Remind me that we’re only having daughters.”

            For a second Harry seemed to have something to reply, mouth hanging open, as if his unspoken words still sat visibly on his tongue. Instead he found the spliff at his pink, cupid’s bow lips with the lighter in his lean fingers close behind. He knew Louis was eyeing him as he burned the twisted paper wick before taking his first drag, anticipating the thin swirl of smoke that would coil from Harry’s lips. Harry felt the subtle and sharp sensation of the hit, he felt the not so subtle and not so sharp sensation that Louis’ gaze was giving him. As he pulled the joint away, he felt that he might have slobbered on it a bit; expecting the way Louis might reprimand him for doing so “on the first hit nonetheless!” but saying it with nothing but fondness.

           

He’d practiced his French inhale when Zayn and he smoked without Louis, knowing full well it’d turn Louis on that he could do something Louis couldn’t. Letting a the smoke curl out and back up into his nostrils in a veil, watching the ripple of surprise across Louis’ features, followed by a more elusive shimmer of lust across the queer blue of Louis’ eyes.          

            “Where’d you learn that trick, Styles?” Louis’d composed himself then, curiosity replacing everything else he’d felt seconds before.

            “Its nothing, just em, tried it.”

            “Liar, you’ve been practicing without me.”

            “Practicing _for_ you.”

            “Oi, give me that! You’re lucky I’ve got a sweet tooth, Harry.” Louis snatched the burning joint from between Harry’s long, lean fingers and stuck it between his thin, dusty rose colored lips; laughing quickly beforehand, looking down and then back up at Harry through his eyelashes.

            Louis was not to be shown up by his younger companion, pulling the spliff from between his lips after a long drag, and catching his eyes in Harry’s to ensure he wouldn’t miss this morsel of seduction Louis had polished for him.

            When he felt the need to exhale, Louis leaned into Harry’s space, both with their eyes still open, leaning in slowly for a hot kiss. Placing his hand on Harry’s face, fingers hooking softly under Harry’s jaw along to his earlobe; thumb placed gently on the plump pinkness of Harry’s bottom lip. Pulling the younger boy’s mouth open, Louis ghosts his lips over Harry’s mouth and blows the smoke out pointedly into the soft, dark pink hollow. Louis opens his eyes as he pulls back, looking completely serious and yet somehow entirely mischievous.

            “Hm.” Is all he has to say after that because he knows he beat Harry Styles. Who must implicitly have understood Louis’ request that he draw the white flag in surrender. To which Harry happily obliged, waving his white flag sheepishly with a crooked grin.

            “My turn,” Harry motions for the joint with grabby fingers, eager to shotgun again with Louis, smoking coming out of his mouth along with the two words.

            The second time is hotter, Harry making sure to amp up the sex appeal for Louis’ sake, arranging his plump to blow sharp and pointed into Louis open, hungry mouth. On Louis’ inhale, a small, audible mention of pleasure escapes from within him, cueing a coquettish smile on Harry’s lips fluidly following the blowing stint.

            They continued on this way, grabbing the backs of each other’s necks, or cupping their hands around the other’s face and reveling in the exchange of the smoke; the high seeping through their bodies and minds before they’d even finished the joint. Quietly, Harry’d always thought the way that people held cigarettes or joints mirrored their personality, an extra faucet like their smile or the way their hands might spiral around excitedly in vehement conversation. And the way Louis’ held spliffs was yet another one of the _little things_ Harry noted as his favorite about Louis. The way Louis’ slim fingers arranged themselves around the small paper cylinder reminded Harry of someone slipping the sinful white tobacco creature between the extended fingers of a bronze statue. A divine piece of art mingling with a small, villainess device, yet somehow the destroyer only made the beautiful stature more elegant. It’s as if Louis wasn’t holding something dirty and frowned upon, but rather lazily and daintily cradling a white mink scarf in his hands. Louis often had this effect upon inanimate items, and always on people and even places around him. As if Louis’ life was some rapid series of postcard photograph stills, everything around him alert and more radiant with his presence. Harry thought that maybe he should feel angry about this, angry that he was only a moth to the flame vivid inside Louis, but it was impossible for him to keep ahold of this thought when a simple blink or hair flip or glance from Louis caused him to go stupid with fond warm feelings.

            Harry also found it unfair that he deserved someone like Louis, he thought that there might be some other beautiful, delightful man or woman out there for Louis who would complement the sharp angles of Louis’ cheeks and the soft curve of his body. But in _moments_ of devil’s advocacy, Harry convinces himself that no one can match Louis the way he can; with his long, thin frame, tall and dark. If Louis were to be the short and curvy ray of sunshine, Harry would be the taller, thinner stormy counterpart, his figure slender with periods of lightening to highlight the sharp angles and soft curves of Louis’ bronze, attractive person.

            “Last hit, love, here you go.” Louis kept the joint between his index finger and thumb, nearly burnt to the roach, slowly moving his hand to Harry’s glistening, ready, and rich rose lips. While Harry pursed his lips like a little angelic fish, fresh from a midnight swim in the clouds, Louis took the time to assess the progress of his high. Checking in with each familiar weed induced feeling, sensing the molasses in his limbs and the quick, excited heartbeat; embracing how his head felt like a balloon attached to his neck. Forcing his mind to exist in real time, he pulled the joint from Harry’s inexplicably enticing mouth and found the ash tray behind him, wondering the whole time how things could be going so slow. Snubbing out the hot, small roach, Louis found himself turning languidly back around to face Harry, bodies suddenly flush together. Louis’ movements had gone queer and twitchy, as he awkwardly scooted back, coaxing out a soft chuckle from Harry.

            “‘M high, Lou.” Said angel faced Harry, eyes droopy and cheeks flushed, making his lips into slurry, happy hearts under the blanket of their high; florid faced Harry with stars in his eyes and sleepy, creamy words slithering into Louis ears. “Lou,” _giggle,_ “Lou, do the dance, Louis!” Squealed innocent, sweet Harry, boyish face cut up into laughter, asking Louis to do his “stop the traffic” dance, a surefire sign to Louis that Harry is indeed stoned. “Pleeeeease!” Harry says, throwing his heavy, large hands onto Louis’ shoulder, lingering there.

            “Alright, love, you gotta get your hands off me though.” Louis felt the cold feeling then, the one inside his stomach, the cold, hungry feeling directly connected to the “go to the kitchen” nerve in his body.

            Harry giggled like a cherub would as he watched Louis do the dance, some laughs getting stuck in his throat as he gulped for air and all the while Louis’ eyes crinkled into the smile that only came out for Harry.

            “We’re stopping, like now.” The motorized door had zipped open quietly while Louis and Harry laughed in their own world and Zayn had gone unknown to them until he had spoken up. The smoke rushed out of the room, the air Zayn had exposed mingling with the smoky haze, causing Zayn to smile, sagely knowing what they had been up to.

            “Thanks Zayn!” Harry turned his head to the doorway, breaking his smiling face from Louis’ eyes, a hint of the look only Louis saw flashing slowly out of Harry’s eyes, revealing their private world to Zayn who caught the glimpse and wouldn’t forget it. Tucking away the knowledge quietly in his “Louis and Harry” file, pieces of why his best mates were so wrapped up in each other collecting and helping him understand.

 

~~~

“I love that little swirl in your hair.” Harry says while extending a finger to the curl hanging on Louis’ forehead. “Makes you look sweet.”

            “Sweet?”

            “Like a desert or something.” Harry says with a slow and sure nod.

            He winks, and pats Harry’s lap and starts to stand up, “looks like I’ve got to get someone a candy bar now!”

            Harry Styles Picture of Virtuousness giggles and looks at Louis one more time, watching as Louis walks out, looking behind him to catch Harry’s eyes and laugh.

 

~~~

 

            “Mate he’s going to get you a chocolate bar?!”             

            “Mhm.”

            “There are some on the bus.”

            “I know,” his grin to Zayn is mischievous and full.     

            “You’re a little shit, Styles.” Words Harry knows are tough in attempt to cover up his admiration for Louis’ willingness to leap across earth for Harry in 2 seconds.

 

~~~

            He must have been crazy stumbling out into the brisk night, stoned and famous, for Harry. It was a recipe for disaster because they weren’t usually allowed to step out for pit stops, unless the area was private enough. But here was Louis, lazy in a tshirt and new hairdo rumpled because apparently Lou forgot how to properly use her hairspray. Louis walked quicker, shirking into his shirt to get into the bright convenience store faster.

            “Excuse me… can we… you’re Louis Tomlinson…” Shit. Where’d they come from? Two excited teen girls had materialized near him, both dressed in Forever 21 fashion and smelling sweetly of some basic body mist. They probably didn’t sound nearly as calm as Louis heard them to be, but his ears felt swelled with water.

            “Really? I thought something was strange when I woke up this morning… I guess that’s it, isn’t it!” They laughed, nervously, worried that Louis’ might have been snippy.

            “Can we get a photograph? We Love you.” Maybe they were saying other things too, Louis couldn’t really hear, he wasn’t really listening, his heart was racing, and his mind was reminding him to make a normal face. Where’d they come from, were they concert goers lucky enough to run into him after the show like this, both on their way to somewhere else? They should thank Harry Styles for this, arranging their fate so perfectly.

            After the photo and small chatter, the small group, idol and his fans, dispersed and Louis headed into the shop, take 2. The florescent lights inside the abnormally large shop shocked him a bit as he willed himself to keep it calm; even though he automatically worried everyone in the shop already knew how high he was.

            Getting the right candy bar for Harry would be easy, his favorite were Twix, but there were endless choices ahead of him for _his_ candy bar and deciding would take forever. Louis worried himself over the smaller things, distracted from the people inside, who’d slowly noticed who he was as he spent what felt like minutes picking a candy bar. Once he’d settled on a simple dark chocolate bar he’d made his way to the front, suddenly distracted by two things, A) how hadn’t he been recognized yet! and B) DVDs! Harry’d be so tickled that Louis had managed to find some funny and cheap DVDs, he liked those kinds of things, the saccharine stuff that made Louis’ molars ache from the over sweetness. But Harry was most sentimental person he knew and he’d rather keep him glowing sickly sweet rather than maudlin over his sentimentality.

            It was as he’d sorted through the bin of DVDS, which he’d found were 3 for 20, that a fan approached him. She politely said hello and asked for a photograph between a “how are you?” and “I love you”.  More but not many fans then, who had gathered, asked for a photograph, some bolder than others making small talk and timid jokes about the DVDs. He made nice content smiles and a couple silly faces, relaxed and happy he wasn’t being mobbed, also fuzzy from within because he was still very high and also quite excited to get back to the bus for Harry.

            “That’s a horrible movie, don’t waste your time.” A voice broke into his thoughts as he pondered a film called “Grown Ups.” He looked over a girl a little younger than him carrying an iPhone and blushing.

            “Well I know someone who’s into horrible things, is it horrible horrible or good horrible?”

            “I cringed the whole length of the film, seriously it sucks.”

            “Ah, thanks,” Louis says setting the movie far away from his pile of already chosen films. “Would you like a photograph then, love?”

           

            Walking toward the cash register he felt good about the casual sighting with his fans he’d just gone through, sometimes it could be so much worse. Six Harry Appropriate DVDs later, he was ready to make his escape out of the oddly bright and too cold shop, back to his glowing and soft, just right Harry Styles.

 

~~~

            “Young Harold! Are you ready?!”

            “For what, Lou?”

            “Chocolate and some films!”

            The cherry colored, honey like substance pumping slowly through Harry’s veins was all for Louis, and in this moment Harry remembered intensely why he fell in love with Louis in the first place. Every nerve ending on his body was alert and thirsty for the older boy’s touch. Excited and eager for Louis to melt into his arms, allowing him to drink his counterpart in, every faucet of Louis was an ingredient in the elixir that made Harry swoon. Within his body, each of the millions of cells that made up every fraction of him sang Louis’ name in a glorious, organic chorale. Through the mighty, golden gates that falling in love with Louis had flung open, an entirely new world had been exposed; one which Harry threw his eyes open every morning excitedly to face. Louis, though older, was the essence of Tuck Everlasting and Harry had found in him the fountain of eternal youth; giving the two of them the luxury to fall asleep in a lush green fantasy land forever together. Loving Louis’ had caused Harry to see in colors that weren’t even invented, and they must have been flashing around in his eyes like goldfish swimming in a pond because Louis looked back at Harry queerly. He’d momentarily worried something had upset Harry, for the undetectable expression he was making was unreadable and unfamiliar to him.

            “You’re so wonderful. You even remembered my favorite sweet.”

            “That’s not all I remembered!” rummaging through the plastic “thank you thank you thank you” bag and finally settling on what he’d been looking for, Louis tossed out a smile and a specific DVD into Harry’s lap.

            Harry had multiple smiles, a crooked one, a closed lip one, a too big for his face one, the lot; but he also had The Louis One, and as soon as the DVD hit his lap, the smile reserved purely for Louis hit his face. He looked up, eyes bright with those undiscovered colors again, “Lou!” It was his favorite, Love Actually, and he was actually going to spill over with love for Louis, who looked at him with a mixture of tenderness and satisfaction.

 

~~~

 

            This is where he belonged, he thought then announced, “this is the way it’s supposed to be, Haz.” He wriggled around in order to look Harry in the eyes, “I belong in your arms.”

            “Mmm.” His eyes were closed, his lips arranged in a closed, content and soft smile, his fingers trailing up and down Louis arms, until Louis’ stirring had caused Harry to open his eyes and look down at the boy in his arms. “I love this hair on you, I love you.”

            “You’re impressive, Styles, somehow you’ve drugged me, forced me into buying you sweeties, coerced me into watching some rubbish romantic comedy and now you’re trying to seduce me.”

            “M’not! Just tellin’ you you’re the best boyfriend ever and that I don’t want you to move. Besides you started it.”

            Cue the typical Louis scoff, “why? Because your duvet is in the hall?”

            “Because I love you, Lou, cut it out!”

            “I love you too, Curly, even though you’re giving me cavities with all these romcoms I’ve gotta watch with you wrapped around me like a jumper.”

            “Don’t worry, I know a good dentist.”

 

 

           

           

           

 

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of the recent Louis sighting at a pit stop in Houston. A girl apparently reported that he smelled like weed and purchased Love Actually, not to mention to various reports he was with Harry exclusively that night. 
> 
> here are the photographs from the night:  
> http://onedirectionitaly.com/?p=17131
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it??? Feedback is cool......................


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